Traitor
by Fingoscript
Summary: “Traitor!”...“Are you speaking to me or are you looking in a mirror, Mr. Snape?” One shot dedicated to all Fanfiction writers.


**Traitor**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the creator and master of Severus Snape.**

I ran down the aisle searching for a vacancy in the huge lecture theater. It was only minutes until the program starts. I cannot believe that I am running late. This event was too important to miss even one word.

Attending a book signing is not a new experience for me. I have gone to the local celebrity fan fare every now and again. This, however, is the big time. Christopher Paolini's books have made the top ten on the New York Best Seller list. They have been on the charts challenging the legendary J.K. Rowling's series for some time.

Delighted to find an excellent seat in the crowded area, I settled in between an elderly couple and a teenager. I scanned the room while depositing my book bag in front of me as rapidly and noiselessly as I could. I landed a place in the middle of the center section. I was able to see the stage without binoculars and thankful it was not in the nosebleed section, err, I mean the balcony.

"_Traitor!_"

Instantly I recognized the deep voice of that whisper close to my ear. It took thirty seconds to recover from the shock and then my anger rose within.

"Are you speaking to me or are you looking in a mirror, Mr. Snape?" I spat out my reply not even turning to see the person belonging to that voice. I glanced at my companions on either side of me to see whether they had heard the man. Apparently, they were too engrossed in their own dialogue to be concerned with mine.

"So we are back to formal names now."

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

Turning around in my seat, I stared at the tall sinister figure that was casually reclining in the scarlet theatre seat behind me. I was surprised that no one seemed troubled by the oddly dressed man. He did appear rather Goth in his clothing fashion. His black topcoat and cloak blended well with his thin sallow face to perfect that morbid style. His presence greatly disturbed me.

"_I could ask you the same question, Maggie_," he sneered.

"Unlike you, I have a real life." I snapped and returned my attention to the stage.

"_I need to talk to you_."

"Well, I'm not talking to you, I'm busy."

"_Maggie._"

Silence.

"_Maggie, I am going to talk to you. If you do not talk to me here, I will take you somewhere you will be more inclined to participate_," Snape callously whispered into my ear again.

"You wouldn't dare," I hissed before I realized to whom I was speaking.

"_You dare challenge a Slytherin. How foolish_," Snape scoffed.

He reached around and put a gentle chokehold on me from behind. "Hold on," he snickered as I felt that sickening tug in my stomach. I closed my eyes thinking that dare was the stupidest thing I have ever done.

"Where are we?" I demanded when I felt that horrible nauseousness recede and I opened my eyes. I could have been standing at a lonely bus stop on a cold, damp, starless night, except there was no road or bus sign. There was simply a small stone bench and dimly lit fog curling around it. The only sound was the slow, steady breathing that I felt as well as heard on the back on my neck.

I stepped away as soon as he released me. "Take me back," I howled but the density of the fog muffled the sound.

"_No_." He was as unmovable as the cold bench and unrelenting as the swirling mist.

"Why have you sought me out Severus?"

"_As I have stated before and now that I have your undivided attention, I want you to come back. I miss you_."

"You, miss me!" I could not believe my ears. "You, Severus Snape, have never needed, wanted nor missed anyone in your entire pathetic, miserable life."

"_You are correct in that I have a pathetic, miserable life. That has been my destiny from the moment my master created me. Evil is what she called me, no redeemable qualities, a truly bad person. I do not deny it."_

Seldom have I looked into those deep eyes and saw anything less than the pain and darkness that I now see. I have known him to shield them by anger, bitterness and revenge. Today I saw sincerity.

He continued, "_It is you and others like you that give me a hope to be something different and to feel something different. My life's course and death is settled, fixed, unmovable, but it is you who writes between the lines._

He stopped and searched my face for any sign of comprehension. "_Not only for me do I ask you to return but for the others as well, for Neville, Hermione and Saint Potter. But most of all I ask because I know of one life that needs a voice, needs to be heard. That voice needs to speak to the others out there that believe they are alone, broken and shattered and to tell them that there is hope_.

"I will return, Severus."


End file.
